Opening the Wound
by LauraMaeH94
Summary: A member of the team is in a dark place. Will the team be able to help her? Or will she shut them out completely? WARNING: self-harm
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: A story I wrote for Extension English. Hope you enjoy!**

Neurons were flying; muscles flinching. Fitful bouts of horror plagued the poor girl's unconscious. Tossing and turning, sweat was slicked across her skin.

The knot that was now forming on the bed was half human, half pink, cotton-polyester blend sheet. Muffled moans were now chorusing through the room as the pain and fear that she hides so well gradually found the spotlight.

With a final flip, the knot was secure, and in her struggle to fight away invisible evils that were reaching out for her, the woman fell. A terrified scream was torn from her throat as she landed with a thud.

For some time, the raven haired woman simply sat where she'd fallen, wide-eyed and shaking, surrounded by a tangled sheet. Several dark spots formed on the otherwise clean sheets, as blood leeched out of her arm. The remnants of a glass of water lay strewn across the floor.

As the sun poked its weary rays from under the surrounding city, she was drawn into the day. Realising the time she rose and made the short, unsteady journey to the adjoining bathroom. It took her all but five minutes to shower, dress and tend to her fresh wound. The stark white bandage joined an ever growing collection.

Slipping a black jacket over her blouse she expertly hid the reality of her nights.

**A/N: Please, R&R!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: More as promised. Please R&R. Enjoy!**

She was a naturally guarded person, not allowing anyone to see into her soul ... ever. She wore an expertly placed mask that, she believed, she could remove at her leisure. However, this unveiling would not be so easy. Over time, her disguise had become ingrained into her inner-being. Even if she tried, she could not remove it in the single, swift action that she dreamed of.

Even though she didn't know it, her friends were well aware of this. They had grown to love the woman they knew; the woman who was deceiving them. They had accepted that they may never learn her true identity.

Although today, there was a subtle difference in her demeanour. Experts in their field, her colleagues did not miss this small change.

Whilst the fair skinned lady stood over a steaming hot cup of coffee, her friends watched on with concern. She was in the middle of swirling yet another sachet of sugar into the smooth brown liquid when one of them approached her.

She looked up, plastered a smile on her face and awaited his question. But it never came. Before the dark man even had a chance to open his mouth, their boss appeared.

"Agents, a moment of your time if I may."

Without further ado, the team followed their boss into a briefing room; the woman leading the way, her concerned companions lagging behind.

**A/N: BTWs this was for an extension English task so it does not have names (but all of the characters are CM characters!)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So, I haven't had any reviews but did get one story alert. So here's to you **_**joolnik**_**!**

The woman with flowing blonde hair that stood behind her, watched the slow accent that she made into the chartered jet. She seemed sore, as if she had over-exercised. But it wasn't just that. There was something about her mood; her demeanour; that was setting off alarm bells with her friends.

...

The next few hours passed by in a blur of blood. Images of murdered women, crime scenes and sadistic killer's faces danced across the back of her eyelids.

Too many; too many people were dead. Too many to count. Too many to remember. Too many to process.

It quickly became too much for the pale-faced woman to compartmentalise. She began to get snippy with her co-workers, frustrated with herself and sick of life in general.

There didn't seem to be much point. You're born, you live, and you die. Big deal! Nobody remembered you anyway. If you were murdered, law enforcement would focus on your death until the person responsible was caught. You family would grieve, your friends mourn. Your colleagues would look at your desk each day, wishing that you were there but, eventually, they would stop. A new worker would be hired, a new friend found. Families begin to heal, spouses often find new loves. And law enforcement, well, they would just move on to where the next body lay. You would be forgotten, but the torment that you suffer in life, reverberates when you die. Police, doctors, friends, family, colleagues; they all suffer at your hands. When you die, you hurt people. Stands to reason, that if you don't hold people closely, they don't suffer in your absence.

That was her motto; her mantra.

It was the very foundation on which she built those internal structures. They housed all sorts of demons, none of which had ever been strong enough to escape. But, over time, the weight that had built up against those walls had weakened it. It was becoming increasingly clear that a penetration of those barriers was approaching, ever so quickly.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Okay so I got a huge response to the last chapter so I decided to post this one early. Keep those reviews and favourites coming!**

By the time she clambered into the elevator that would take her to her fifth floor hotel room, she knew what she needed to do. She was spiralling. She was out-of-control. She knew what came next. Her friends knew too.

They had invited her to dinner. She had agreed. They were meeting in the lobby in ten minutes. Her colleagues believed that this would not give her enough time to do what they all suspected that she was aching to do. In actual fact, it gave her just enough time. Enough time to shower, to pick out an outfit, and to regain control.

She had acted somewhat excited about the coming evening so that, when she eagerly jumped out of the elevator, it didn't seem odd.

She inserted the key card into the door and delighted at the clicking it made as locks parted to allow her entry.

Grasping her overnight bag, she threw it onto the bed, emptied it of its contents and began to dig around in the inner lining of the case. She felt her heart skip a beat when her hand finally found what it was looking for. Her fingers wrapped slowly around the cool, silver blade and drew it up into the light.

Quickly, she stepped into the cramped bathroom with a fresh pair of undergarments in hand. Tearing off her shirt, she felt her heart thumping loudly in her ears. She exposed her flesh – pale and scarred. It took her all but ten seconds to rip off the multitude of soiled bandages that donned her body.

She battled with herself as she drew the small, sharp object to her flat, taut stomach – her head telling her not to follow through but her body not being able to stop itself.

Sticky, red liquid trickled out of the wound as the incision was lengthened until it ran from one side of her torso to the other. Feeling her anxiety drip out of her, she sighed, relaxed slightly and repeated the action a few more times.

When she couldn't see through the blood covering her upper body, she removed the remainder of her clothing and jumped into the shower. She had a little less than five minutes to be washed, bandaged, dressed and downstairs to meet her friends for dinner – hardly a challenge for this woman.

It would take her three minutes at the most to wash herself and then all she needed to do was bandage herself and throw on some clothing.

The bleeding was usually stopped by the searing hot water that pelted her shoulders as she combed her long, shapely fingers through her dark hair.

Surprise rose within her when she stepped onto a clean bath mat and saw large red spots begin to appear. Her eyes were drawn back to her fresh, swollen wound tracks. She didn't think much of the copious amount of blood that was still present, rather choosing to attribute it to her hurried shower.

She dried the rest of her body and replaced her blood soaked underwear and bra with fresh ones before securing a crisp, white towel around her torso.

Stepping out into the main room in a rush of steam, the woman collected bandages from her pack and set to work strategically placing them over her body. After pulling on a dark dress, beige stockings and a bright red coat she placed a pair of stiletto heels on her small feet. With one finishing touch, (a small pin that held back various parts of her hair), she was ready to go.

Taking one last glimpse at herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the door, she quickly and expertly checked that no dressings were showing.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Okay, so this one is a bit longer. Only a few more chapters to go but I'm thinking a prequel or sequel may be in order. I don't know. For now though, enjoy…**

She dried the rest of her body and replaced her blood soaked underwear and bra with fresh ones before securing a crisp, white towel around her torso.

Stepping out into the main room in a rush of steam, the woman collected bandages from her pack and set to work strategically placing them over her body. After pulling on a dark dress, beige stockings and a bright red coat she placed a pair of stiletto heels on her small feet. With one finishing touch, (a small pin that held back various parts of her hair), she was ready to go.

Taking one last glimpse at herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the door, she quickly and expertly checked that no dressings were showing.

...

The secretive woman was one of the first to make it to the lobby. Once everyone arrived they all headed to a quaint Italian restaurant on the corner of the block to eat as much food as they could handle. Having not eaten for a number of hours, it concerned her colleagues when the woman only ordered a small salad, and barely ate any of it.

One of the more senior agents on the team noticed that she appeared paler than usual. Until then, he had not considered this possible. He was also not the only one to notice her unsteady hand grasp at a glass of water that sat only a few inches from her plate. He saw her struggle to keep the liquid in the cup as she drew it to her dry, cracked lips and gulped it down. If he was not mistaken, he swore that he could also see small beads of sweats forming on her upper lip and around her hair line.

When she got up to use the restrooms, she was followed by one of the two, more junior, female agents – the one who had followed her onto the jet earlier that day.

This surprised no-one – not even the woman herself.

The sickly agent tried not to rush ahead, partially in an attempt to avoid drawing more attention to herself, and partially because she was feeling as if she may collapse at any coming moment.

Just after she stepped through the bathroom door, the shorter woman followed suit. She was shocked with what she found.

Her friend, one of the strongest women she knew, was leaning heavily against the cool, grimy tile walls looking as though she was about to expel her limited stomach contents.

"Sweetie," came the voice to her right. "What can I do?"

The tall woman had her eyes shut tightly but, even without the benefit of sight, she could still see the expression of her friend's face. It was one of concern and terror.

"Nothing." The simple word slipped effortlessly from between her lips. It was a complete lie, but one that she had almost convinced herself was the truth. She almost believed that she was beyond help, and hope. Over the years she had become quite adept at the process of lying (to herself as well as to others), and often used it to weasel her way out of uncomfortable situations, such as the one she was experiencing at that exact moment.

She felt a small hand find its way to her shuddering shoulder. She knew that she would have to elaborate further.

"Just experiencing a monthly reminder of the fact that I am indeed a woman."

"Ah," came the reply.

Whispering something about just being a holler away, the woman turned and left the toilets. She figured that her friend probably just wanted a few minutes of peace and quiet.

...

Soon after the secretive woman re-joined the table, the group decided that it was time to head back to their hotel rooms and get a few hours of sleep.

In her rush to be able to lie prostrate on the double bed in her room, the woman with the raven locks forgot to collect her assignments from the media liaison for the following morning.

Realising this, the blonde woman made after her before being stopped by another colleague. He told her that he would deliver the documents before sending her on her way. He rounded the corner just in time to see the other woman disappearing into her room. The door had nearly completed its slow swing shut when he jammed his foot between it and the doorframe. He tiptoed in, hearing the water running in the bathroom, and fully intended to simply leave the documents on the side of the bed and make a hasty retreat to his neighbouring room. That was, until he noticed the blood-soaked towel and clothing lying just beyond his feet.

He had to consciously stop himself from gasping, instead opting to alert the woman to his presence.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Only one chapter to go! Please R&R…**

Feeling as if she was about to be sick, the woman didn't bother waiting until she heard the click of the door automatically locking before swiftly leaping over her dirty clothing and linen and through the bathroom door, only to hunch over the toilet bowl. With each dry wretch she could feel her wounds ripping and tearing at each other. She could feel fresh blood soaking through her dress but that was not her biggest concern.

She couldn't breathe!

She was caught in the middle of yet another spluttering cough when she heard a low voice emanating from just beyond the door that separated the adjoining bed and bathrooms. She recognised it instantly.

She turned just in time to see a concerned face appear from the darkness that had engulfed the bedroom.

Before she knew it, she was face down in oddly scented toilet water once more. This time however, her hair did not join her. It was being held back by a hand whose pair was rubbing concentric circles between her shoulder blades.

Finally, after a final sharp, painful cough raked through her body, it was over. She allowed herself to awkwardly turn and slump to the ground, forgetting all together that she was not alone.

Taking in a deep breath, she felt her body begin to shake. She could feel sweat dripping down the sides of her head, with some droplets stinging her eyes during their descent. She shut the outside world out, deciding instead to study the back of her eyelids for a while.

When, after a few moments, the sweating hadn't subsided, she slid further to the ground, opting to lie flat against the cool bathroom tiles instead of leaning against the wall.

The sound of water running from an open tap stirred her, reminding the weak woman of her predicament.

A large hand weaselled its way under mats of dirty hair to tilt her head so that fluids could be introduced to her body once more. She sipped the clear liquid thankfully as it made a slow trail down the inside of her throat.

She smiled slightly in thanks before attempting to sit up. Her friend reached across her body to hold her shoulders in an attempt to stop her from sitting. Instead, the arms discovered the truth hidden beneath the fabric.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: So I'm glad everyone enjoyed this! Sadly, it has come to an end… Please R&R, let me know what you think, and what you want for next time. Thankyou for all of your support. Don't hesitate to PM me! Love you all! Enjoy…**

When he poked his head into the bathroom, the tall, handsome man was not expecting to be confronted by the horror that he saw. His comrade was violently vomiting. He rushed to her side as the eyes that had just bored into his soul returned their gaze to the murky mixture of grey water, food chunks and stomach acid that currently inhabited the toilet bowl. He woman gathered her hair and tried to coax the remnants of bile out of her throat.

When the heaving subsided and the woman moved away from his touch, he decided to search for a cup of some sort, so as to provide the woman with a drink. It took a few moments of digging around for him to find one.

Upon his return to the bathroom, he noticed that the other woman had moved from the wall to the floor. She opened her eyes momentarily when the water was bought to her lips.

Before the man had time to react his friend was trying desperately to sit up. Reaching over her, the man tried, and succeeded, in stopping her to do so. However, in this effort, he noted something peculiar. There was some kind of warm, sticky substance now donning his forearm.

Looking down, he noticed the colour. Suddenly, this same colour, blood red, seemed to scream at him from every corner of the room.

Gasping, he let words fall out of his mouth without so much as a second thought.

"Oh my … Baby girl, what did you do?"

The question was barely audible but still she heard it. However, the only form of response that she gave was the slight shaking of her head and the furrowing of her brow.

Her eyes were still closed by were rapidly filling with tears. She couldn't help but think how weak she was, lying on a bathroom floor, in a hotel, crying. No wonder she had so many issues.

The man decided that the narrow bathroom would not be the place to further investigate what had happened. Without allowing a word of protest, he placed his arms behind her shoulders and knees respectively. He gentle hoisted her into his arms, eliciting a small yelp of pain to spill out of the woman's mouth.

"Where does it hurt?"

Through gritted teeth she hissed, "Everywhere."

He carried her through the doorway and into the bedroom before smoothly easing her onto the double bed as softly as possible. Pulling out the knife that was secured on his left ankle he began to cut away her dress as quickly, and painlessly, as possible. Despite his best efforts, by the time her marred skin was in clear view, her face had contorted into a permanent flinch.

The sight that lay before him left him speechless. Wounds, that seemed to originate from every possible surface of her body, oozed in delight.

Some appeared older or infected while others were obviously very recent. Stunned, it took him a moment to jump into action.

He collected the last clean towel from inside the bathroom, wetting it on his way out, before hunting up the woman's personal first-aid kit. It held bandages, antiseptic lotion, gauze strips, alcohol swabs, a suture kit and some pain killers.

Taking the damp towel, he gently began to wipe away the fresh and dry blood that was leaking from around the old bandages. When satisfied with this, he removed one bandage at a time, cleaning them methodically and stopping any residual bleeding.

When cleaned, the two people could clearly see just how deep the wounds had become.

Realising that his friend was beginning to shake and shudder due to shock and being cold, he continued to dress the wounds by dabbing antiseptic lotion in and around the lacerations with gauze.

Finally satisfied with his work, he finished by dressing the wound with various sizes and shapes of bandages.

Next, he rummaged through the clean clothing, which still lay where it had been dumped, by the foot of the bed, until he found a jumper, fresh pair of underwear and a pair of over-sized tracksuit pants.

He helped her place the jumper on and then watched closely as she stiffly disappeared into the bathroom to change her underwear. At one point, she even re-appeared and asked him to un-latch her bra. He did so and she returned moments later, ready to put on the warm cotton pants.

She placed her hands on his shoulders as he knelt to the ground, helping her to place one leg, and then the other, into the designated holes.

When he looked up again, his anxious eyes were met by her tired ones. A lone tear escaped as he pulled back to bed covers and tucked her in tightly. He sat with her moulded into his chest, waiting for her to drop off to sleep. Just before she did however, he whispered something into her ear.

"Don't worry baby girl. You are not alone anymore."

She only had one nightmare that night. It only took a protective, soothing squeeze from her faithful friend to return her to a melodic rhythm of sleep.

It was as if she knew that she was finally safe; not only from her monsters, but also from herself.


End file.
